


Across the Sea and Beyond

by FriendvilleFan



Category: American Girl Dolls - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 16:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21496855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendvilleFan/pseuds/FriendvilleFan
Summary: When Death comes knocking on your door, a decaying hand reaching out to catch you in its icy grip. . .Disease like a serpent had a way of slinking its way into Marie-Grace’s life sucking it dry with its death and decay. The only difference was that this time, she was the victim. I bet my father didn’t see this coming when he sent me away, she thought bitterly as she clutched The Pirate’s hand like it were her only lifeline. His face was a blurry vision of anguish as more worry lines etched themselves across his handsome features. “Across the sea and beyond, Ti-Marie, I will go and find the cure. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”Then she fell into an exhausted, feverish sleep as her pirate captain squeezed her hand one last time before setting off to do the impossible, find a cure for the dreaded PFV disease.The biggest problem about the witchcraft disease is that you never know if it is better to wake as an evil witch and stay that way for eternity or if it’s better to never wake up at all---Mime #52
Kudos: 1





	Across the Sea and Beyond

Marie-Grace Gardner’s troubles began the day Bitty Baby Rose Quansa and her best friend Bitty Baby Daisy Fatterson were bored. Two bored Bitty Babies alone in a world full of magic is never usually a good thing, especially not for their new best friend Marie-Grace.  
“I’m bored!” Bitty F. wailed as she dramatically threw herself across the sofa.  
Bitty Q. whined, “So am I!”   
“What do you want to do today, Bitty?” Bitty F. asked.  
“I don’t know Bitty,” said Bitty Q. “What do you want to do today?”  
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”  
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”  
And so it went for the next three hours. Until. . .  
“Ooo, I know!” Bitty F. sat up straight and yelled, “I know what we can do! Bitty, I just got the bestest idea ever!”  
“What is it? What?” Bitty Q. asked eagerly.  
“A play! We should put on a musical!”  
Bitty Q.’s eyes lit up. Nothing excites her more than a good theatrical production. “About what though?”  
Bitty F.’s bubble of excitement popped like a balloon. “That’s what I don’t know.”  
“Hmmm.” Both Bitties thought for a minute and then Bitty F. exclaimed, “A princess! Locked in a tower!”  
“No, that’s too overdone. Been there, done that. We need something really original.”  
“Okay. Um . . . Ninjas! In Ancient Rome!”  
“Ninjas? In . . . .? What? No, that’s terrible! Come on Bitty, think of something amazing! Something people might actually enjoy watching!”  
Bitty F. thought so hard, Bitty Q. was afraid she’d start seeing smoke. “We need something with adventure.”  
“Yes!” Bitty Q. encouraged. “Adventure sounds good.”  
“And maybe a bit of romance.”  
“Sure, what else?”  
“And. . .ooo! Maybe some humor, something a little odd to keep people interested.”  
“Yes, but how do you make that into a good story?”  
“I’m working on it,” Bitty F. said with a frown. She looked around the room, searching for that one special click of inspiration and found it when her eyes landed on Marie-Grace. “Captured By French Pirates!” Bitty F. shouted. “The musical!”  
Bitty Q. smiled menacingly. “Now we’re in business.”  
******************************************************************  
Nellie O’Malley hummed softly to herself as she walked down play road. She had successfully ditched Samantha in the park leaving her friend alone to hunt down Felicity in the old abandoned mine shaft after Felicity had ripped a sacred locket off an old lady’s neck claiming it was the key to rescuing a family of dwarves from an evil tyrant bent on world domination using dwarves as his army. Nellie never understood why Samantha always felt she had to involve them in Felicity’s crazy schemes. Sometimes she took it upon herself to tell Samantha her honest thought and when Samantha refused to listen to reason in her mad quest to exercise some control over this insane family Nellie would back away slowly and go home.   
Today was one of those times. Nellie heard the mailbox say, “You have mail. You have mail. You have mail,” and decided she had better get the mail or else suffer the ongoing headache of listening to that all day. She opened the lid and frowned when she saw only one envelope. Usually if there is mail it is a large stack with something for each kid to open. This time, however, there was only one lonely envelope addressed to Meredith Blake. Nellie was torn between respecting Meredith’s privacy and slitting into the envelope herself. Meredith Blake was still fairly new to the playroom and her adjustment was rather rocky so far. Meredith was not from a historical time period like the big girls or from an enchanted magical kingdom like Glogan. The babies were from the present day too, but they were too young for Meredith to hang out with and form close friendships with. With all the other girls her age from a particular time in history it was difficult for them to understand each other. There was Kelsey, the only other girl from Meredith’s time, yet it didn’t seem to be working out between them. Kelsey and Meredith were forced to be together and otherwise would not have tried to be friends. Meredith was also from a foster care place in Maine. Although they were all orphans at one point, foster care was something no one else in the playroom went through and therefore could not connect with Meredith about. To make matters worse, Meredith didn’t know who she was. She had only been living in foster care the last sixteen months and could not remember any of her life before then. Maybe this letter was the key into her past. So Nellie stared down at the envelope in her hands and debated for a moment. With a shrug, she opened it and read:  
Meredith Catherine Keabl  
As you know, Keabls are special. You are a Keabl. We kept this a secret so you unlike the rest of us would have a chance at life. We left you brainwashed with the state so that you have no memory of us and will get your normal life. Powerful magic was unleashed through mistake by greed and horror. Your ancestors didn’t want to see this gift and mistake ruin the world. Don’t blame them. They didn’t plan on taking it themselves. It just happened. Once the people knew, the hunt for Keabls began. By then it was too late. They were gone and years have passed. The new generations of Keabls were already hidden. Take caution. The witch disease that kills normal people strengthens and fuels our powers. This is a warning to you beloved Maradith. There might come a time when you must use this gift. For good or for ill it will be up to you. Remember, try to remember. There might be a way to undo what your ancestors have thrusted upon you. Do not try to look for me. The very moment I die the power I have goes to you. We wanted to spare you but you’re the last Keabl left. There is nothing else left to do with it.  
Your loving Grandfather   
Master Keabl  
“Whatcha doing?”  
Nellie jumped and dropped the letter. “Felicity! Don’t scare me like that! Wait, what are you doing here? Where’s Samantha?”  
Felicity laughed.  
“Felicity, where is Samantha?”   
“Samantha? Um, maybe she might be in jail?”  
“Jail?!”  
“I defeated the guy and saved the dwarves, but the lady’s locket had to be destroyed. She wants to press charges, something about thieves, vandals, rotten kids, a precious family heirloom and no respect for elders. Man, that old lady has some spunk! I got out of there as soon as the police arrived. By the way, I used Samantha’s one phone call. She probably needs to be bailed out. What’s that?” Felicity snatched the letter off the floor.   
“No! Give me that!” She jumped as Felicity held the page way over Nellie’s head. “I can’t believe you made Samantha go to jail for you! Urgh! Now I have to deal with that!”  
“Ooooh!” Felicity’s eyes lit up. “Meredith! You’re snooping her mail! That’s a federal offense, you know. Maybe you’ll join Samantha in that cell.”  
“Hey, you’re doing it too----”  
“What’s a Kea----?”  
Nellie punched Felicity in the gut and clasped a hand over her mouth. Meredith had just walked into the room. Nellie dragged Felicity outside to the hedge. The hedge is where all playroom people like to sneak off to for private conversations. “Felicity, you cannot tell Meredith about this.”  
“WHAT?!”  
“Shh! She’ll hear us!”  
“Sorry,” Felicity’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t you think she has a right to know about this?”  
“Well, if they brainwashed her----”  
“But this is the key to her past! Maybe this will help her remember!”  
“What if it’s good she doesn’t remember? I mean, she has a fresh start here. We can’t take that away from her.”  
“But if she has a chance---”  
“There are a lot of unknowns here. What is a Keabl? What power? What gift? Witch disease? What is that? Maybe we should wait for Sam-----”  
“Nooo!” Felicity shouted. “No Samantha! I can handle this!”   
“I don’t think---”  
“Nellie, Meredith has to know. We’ll help her. Nothing bad will----”  
“Oh, plenty of bad things could happen! But I suppose you’re right----”  
“Yes!”  
As much as Nellie loathed to admit it, Felicity knew what she was doing when it came to magic crises. Yes, her methods might be insane but Felicity did have her good points and it tended to be saving the day. Samantha might not always appreciate Felicity’s ability to make things turn out right in the end because she often got caught up in the middle of it, yet Nellie could see where Felicity might be helpful, not harmful, in this particular case. “Hold your horses missy, I’m not done yet. Here’s the plan. Yes, Meredith has to know. But we’re not telling anyone else. I don’t think they should be involved. Samantha will learn of it in due time. For now----”  
“Thank you, Nellie! You won’t be disappoint---”  
“You will give this to Meredith. Sealed, of course and act surprised. Pretend you’ve never seen it before. Then, take her to the library and---”  
“Library?! No, not the library! Anything but---”  
“You will go to the library and research. Research, Felicity, did you hear me? Find out what all this means. And then and only then, once you understand this, then we figure out what to do. Don’t you dare go galloping off . . . . . Felicity! Felicity!” Felicity had indeed already galloped off, waving the envelope with one hand and pulling Meredith along with the other. “Oh, I give up,” said Nellie. “Now, about Samantha. . .”   
******************************************************************************  
The Bitties worked long and hard into the night, trying desperately to write and rewrite the perfect script with music of course. “Um, Bitty,” said Bitty Q.  
“Yes?”  
“We have to cut this song.”  
“Why? It’s my favorite!”  
“Mimes can’t sing!”  
“Oh yeah, I keep forgetting. A quick rewrite.” She took her pen and rewrote the entire scene. “This is great! Who needs to be creative? Our lives are interesting enough as it is.”  
“I know, right? And the public will just love that it’s a true story.”  
“I can’t wait until show time!”  
“Me too!”  
******************************************************************  
Felicity slammed the book against the wall with all her might, much to the cringing librarian’s dismay. “I hate this! I look and look and look and nothing! There is absolutely nothing in this stupid old library that can help us! And why should I be wasting my time in this musty, crumbling old building when I could be out riding on a beautiful day like today?”  
“Shh!” hissed the trembling librarian. The woman was shy; more at home with books than people hence the career choice. She didn’t quite know how to handle the loud redheaded girl who came charging into her library that morning with the noble mission to “uncover the ancient secret of Meredith’s past and help her save the world from the gift’s destruction.”   
“I’m sorry,” whispered Meredith. “You don’t have to help me.”  
“Oh, but I want to! We’re going to be great friends Meredith, I can just tell-”  
“Well, I have my doubts about that.”  
“----and good friends help each other with cryptic letters from grandpa. Now, where was that magazine I had earlier? Maybe something with pictures with help me? All these words make my brain hurt!”  
“No doubt,” said Meredith under her breath. Meredith longed with all her heart to know where she belonged. It obviously wasn’t the playroom. If she had a grandfather alive out there then she wanted to meet him. His note scared her when it told of his death yet is also thrilled her to think of having great power like him. If only she could remember! She wanted the magic so she could do great things; accomplish greater things than Felicity ever did. Such talent, such promise was wasted on a girl like Felicity who squandered it on helping others. Imagine what Meredith could do if she had whatever this gift was her grandfather spoke of!  
“Ooooh, Meredith!” For now though, Meredith was stuck listening to this girl prattle on and on and on. “Meredith, look at this! I just thought of this! Your last name. Blake. Scramble the letters and it spells Keabl.”  
Wow, this girl really is slow and dense! thought Meredith. “Oh, that’s so amazing! They used the letters from my real name to make my fake cover up name. I can’t believe we didn’t see it before!”  
“I know, right?” Felicity smiled happily, suddenly content. “See, Mer, can I call you that? Okay, Mer, we can be friends! Everyone loves me! Don’t worry about the whole fitting in thing around here. I’ve never fit in anywhere, especially not the playroom, but they still love me and so I’ll love you too even if no one else there does. It’s okay to be different, you know that right?”  
Meredith nodded, if only to get Felicity to shut up!   
“Shh!” The librarian’s face was red from anger. Defending her precious library from these wackos from play road was the loudest she had ever talked and the most words she had ever spoken in her life. “Hush! This is a library not some circus! Please, be quiet or I’ll ask you to exit the building.”   
“Yeah and how are you going to make me?” Felicity stood on the table, one hand reaching into the folds of her skirt for a dagger.   
“Felicity!” hissed Meredith pulling on her arm. “I really don’t think you should---”  
Too late. The dagger was out and aimed for the librarian’s throat. The poor woman shrank back against the confines of the desk. Then the librarian smiled as she reached for the phone. “By calling the police.”  
Felicity paled. The dagger hit the floor with a big clatter. “No, please! Anything but that! I already had a run in with them today and I cannot afford another one! Think of what Samantha will say!”  
“All the more reason why I should.”  
“No,” Felicity was on her knees now, “I beg you, please, don’t do that!”  
“Then get out of my library.”  
“But I need to---”  
“Get out!” The librarian’s out stretched arm pointed to the door.   
Felicity grabbed the book nearest to her and ran. “Come on, Meredith, run!” Felicity and Meredith ran the whole five miles home not even pausing to see if they were being pursued. As it turns out, the librarian did not call the police. She chickened out after they left but vowed that she would not hesitate to call the next time she saw that nasty redheaded girl.   
“I can’t. . . .believe. . . .you did that!” huffed Meredith.   
Felicity grinned. “Wonder if they banned me this time? They did last time. I’m not allowed to check out books so I have to read them there, not that I want to waste my time reading, but it kinda backfired on them because they have to put up with me while I’m there!” Meredith didn’t fail to notice that Felicity wasn’t breathing hard. She wondered how much running she does to get away from all the people who chase her on a daily basis. “Now,” Felicity sat back on her heels and smoothed her colonial skirt out around her, “Let’s see what I have here.” She opened the book to see that it was hollowed out. In the center was a smaller book with the word Keabl embossed on the cover.   
Meredith’s mouth dropped open. “How did you . . . ?”  
“What luck!” cried Felicity. “Now, let’s see what it has to say.”  
Keabls 101: Everything You Need to Know  
Keabls have been around since the dawn of time. In PFV, they are one of the last, oldest and most powerful magically to have ever lived. They are physically indestructible. No weapon, no disease, can kill them. The key to killing a Keabl is to kill them before their powers come in. For some Keabls they get their magic powers when they turn 13. Others are later in the game and get them at age 33 or at 300, 313, or 333. Either way, it is an age with the number 3 in it. One drop of their magic is more potent than a gallon of any average Pretend Friend Ville Citizen. No one is quite sure all what Keabl magic can do because most of the Keabls have been stamped out. Only two Keabls in the history of the world have harnessed their power, learned to control it and use it for good. In the end, the power corrupted them and they ended up insanely evil. Most Keabls use their energy for evil. Each one tries to find a cure or a way to rid themselves of their power and each one fails miserably. Keabls are 52 million times older than elves, are 52 billion times stronger than a dragon, and have 52 trillion times more watts of magic than fairies.   
The ancient myth of how they acquired such raw power and super human ability goes a bit like this. Once upon a time, when people still lived in caves, a dark evil magic entered the world. A magic so dark no one knew how to handle it. In these days, PFV citizens did have magic of their own. Light magic existed was not as common as it is now. The first Keabl was a man named Elbert Horsnuff. He sucked all the magic, both dark and light, into his body. Within 3333 minutes he exploded and the bits of magic that were in him circled the globe before landing inside his pregnant daughter Zoolu. When she had the baby, she did not die of natural causes but was killed by the child. The child was too powerful for its own good. Every descendant since has been a Keabl. The family grew very large. It at one time numbered 525,252 people. Once Keabls were hunted down they dwindled in numbers. The last full generation claimed to be truly good and not evil. They went into hiding to protect themselves because they were so hated by the public. There is currently only one Keabl left. Keabls can die of old age, their magic suddenly decides it wants to inhabit someone else or they can die of magic overload if they inhale the wrong combination or light, purple, gold, red, black, poison magic.   
Keabls prided themselves on their power and when it mattered most their magic failed them. They were hunted down by the legendary order of Keabl knights; no one is sure to this day how the knights managed to kill them. Some knights turned dark and hunted Keabls to use as their own power source if they didn’t already willing side with them or turn dark. One Keabl man survived. It is rumored he had a child who had a child making him a grandfather. Sometimes Keabl powers skip a generation. The man is locked up now and waiting to die now, his body has lost its indestructible ability due to his decimation of the knights.   
A way for a Keabl to fuel his magic and become stronger is through magically diseases. When normal humans are sick with magical diseases their magic leaves them which makes them sick in the first place. If a Keabl happens to be in the area, anywhere in 52 miles, they naturally suck up the extra magic claiming it as their blood and ultimately weakening the sick person even more. If a Keabl is nearby and you have a magical disease you will not stand a chance and death is certain. Keabls, being evil, often make people sick by inject them with the disease. They do not use a shot to inject the disease they use scorpions. The most popular disease for Keabls to use is Witchcraft disease. The Witchcraft epidemic of 1333 is the prime example of this. That year humans were nearly made extinct. *****See volume 52, page 52, paragraph 52, section B for more detail on Witchcraft disease*****  
There were 52 great Keabl wars and none have happened in the last 3,000 years. Since it is nearly impossible for Keabls to die, they live a long time. The master Keabl merely means the only or the strongest Keabl alive with magic powers intact. Keabl magic can be weakened over time although not completely destroyed.   
This is the only written record of Keabls. All other histories and/or information are lost.   
“Wow,” breathed Meredith in a hushed sigh. “Amazing. I am so glad to be one of them. So cool!”  
“Amazing?!” Felicity recoiled in horror. “All that bloodshed? All that evil and corruption and thirst for power? The knights killing, the Keabls killing, it’s awful, terribly horrible! When I think of all those poor people with dying of that disease so Keabls can. . . . .” Felicity shuddered. “I’m so sorry, Meredith, that these are your people!”  
This was the exact wrong thing to say for it made Meredith much more determined to embrace her Keablness.   
“You must be the last one,” said Felicity thoughtfully. “The Keabl master is your grandfather, you don’t have your powers yet, he’s going to die, oh my goodness! Oh, Meredith! I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t let you become a monster like that!” She flung her arms around Meredith and sobbed, crying for all Keabls over the centuries, all those brave knights who went gallantly to their deaths, for the victims of witchcraft disease, and most of all the situation in which they now found themselves.   
******************************************************************  
“No.” The pirate threw another dagger and it landed smack in the center of a target set up on the other side of the ship. The captain crossed his arms as he glared down at the pleading eyes staring up at him. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no! And in case you didn’t get it the first eight times, no! Absolutely not!”  
“Please!” Bitty Q. was on her knees now, practically begging him to say yes. “Please pirate? Pretty please with sugar on top?”  
“The answer is still no.”  
“Please, won’t you do it for me?”  
“No.” Then grumbled under his breath, “For Marie-Grace, maybe.”  
But Bitty Q. heard him. “This is a chance of a lifetime!”  
“No.”  
“You could become rich and famous!”  
“I’m already rich.”  
“You’re the star of the show!”  
“All the more reason not to.” The pirate started to walk away.  
“But Marie-Grace said yes,” Bitty Q. said innocently.  
He stopped walking.   
“She seemed rather excited about it and said . . . oh, never mind. You said no, so now I guess I have to go home and crush all her hopes and dreams. Wish me luck. I just hope we’ll be able to get her to stop crying.”  
The pirate turned slowly to face her. “What did you just say?”  
Bitty Q. gulped, hoping he wouldn’t see through the lie. “Marie-Grace said she’d do it in a heartbeat and that she can’t wait to get up on that stage with you. She said there’s no one else she’d rather share it with.”  
“Marie-Grace really said all that?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion, Marie-Grace tended to avoid the spotlight at all cost.  
“Yep, she did and she also said it would break her heart if you said no.”  
“Really? She really said that?”  
Bitty Q. nodded.  
“Then why didn’t she come to me herself?”  
“Oh, you know how she is, too nervous about silly little things like that for her own good. Plus, she was afraid she would cry buckets in front of you if you refused.”  
“Well, we can’t let that happen.”  
“You mean you’ll do it?!” Bitty Q. squealed in excitement.  
“If it means that much to Marie-Grace, then yes, I’ll do it.”  
“Yes!” Bitty Q. shouted. “Now I hope just Bitty had as much success convincing Marie-Grace!”  
“WHAT??!!” The pirate screamed. “Bitty Baby Quansa!”  
“Um . . . did I say that out loud? I mean, nothing, gotta go, big musical production to put on you know.” Bitty Quansa world famous actor and director took off in a run as if her life depended on it, which it did.  
******************************************************************  
“No.” Marie-Grace threw another stick and her dog Argos went bounding after it. Her gaze softened as she looked down at the pleading eyes staring up at her. She almost gave in but then hardened her resolve. “Je suis désolé mais aucune. I’m sorry, but no. No! I won’t do it! Absolutely not!”  
“Please Marie-Grace!” Bitty F. threw herself at her feet. “Please, please, please! Won’t you do it for me?”  
“No.” Then added quietly under her breath, “For the pirate maybe, but he’d never agree to it.”  
Bitty F. smiled. “Oh, but honey, he already said yes.”  
Marie-Grace’s mouth fell open. “HE WHAT?!”  
Bitty F. nodded. “He said he’d do it in a heartbeat and that he can’t wait to get up on that stage with you. He said there’s no one else he’d rather share the spotlight with.”  
“I. . I. . .” Marie-Grace stuttered. “I don’t know what to say.” Wait a minute, she thought that didn’t sound like her pirate at all. Something wasn’t right here.  
“You don’t need to say anything except yes,” said Bitty F. “He----”  
“Are you sure he said all that to you, Bitty?”  
“Well, of course I’m sure! Marie-Grace, how could you doubt me? Trust your Uncle Billy!”  
“My Uncle Billy passed away a century and a half ago. What does he have to do with anything?”  
“It’s just an expression, don’t take it too literally. Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing; I’ve got it all taken care of. Trust me! Just show up to dress rehearsal and everything will be just fine.”  
Before Marie-Grace could get a word in edgewise, Bitty F. scampered away as fast as she could leaving Marie-Grace alone with a bundle of worries and woes. Perform? With the Captain of the French Pirates? Relive a very special, very important, very secret part of her life in a big musical production for the entire world to see? Oh no, she thought, this can’t be happening!  
******************************************************************  
Bitty Q. ran home as fast as her short, stubby little legs could carry her. She nervously glanced over her shoulder every once in a while just to make sure there was no angry pirate chasing her. Finally, as she reached Play Road, she slowed down enough to catch her breath when suddenly a dark figure came barreling out of the Playroom and knocked into her, sending them both crashing to the ground.  
“Hey!” Bitty Q. shouted. She shook her fist and scrambled to her feet. “Watch where you’re-----”  
“Bitty!” Bitty F. exclaimed. “Was your mission successful?”  
“Um . . . well . . . you see . . . he wasn’t too thrilled with the idea.”  
Bitty F.’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? Is he not going to do it?”  
“Is Marie-Grace?”  
“Yes, but---”  
“Okay, then we’re all set.”  
Bitty F. was still doubtful. “You’re certain?”  
“As long as Marie-Grace said she’d do it, then we have our pirate.”  
“And as long as we have our pirate, we’ve got our leading lady.”  
Bitty Q.’s face lit up into a smile. “This is going to be totally awesome!”  
Bitty F. grinned. “What could possibly go wrong?”  
******************************************************************  
Everything. It seems everything could possibly go wrong. The stage ship was much too big for the stage. Logan took it upon herself to cut in half with a chainsaw, a horrifying disaster for everyone and a whole new ship had to be built. When they ordered to be water painted for the background someone, Gwen, misheard and doused it with actual sea water instead. The sets were completely ruined. A cannon fired wrong and put several holes in the ceiling. The original former mime crew could not be recruited for the show so they found new mimes. But they knew absolutely nothing about life aboard a ship and couldn’t act as sailors. It did not work out well for anyone, especially the captain. They also couldn’t find a band willing to learn all that new music on such short notice and so the musical protégée Bitty Quansa had to do it all as a solo, a rather difficult project for one person especially when they wrote a part for every instrument that has ever existed and when every scene had a grand musical number in it. Opening night was tomorrow and not one complete run through of the script had taken place yet. The Playroom was utterly exploding in complete chaos of activity.  
“Marie-Grace!” Bitty Q. called sharply. “You’re a prisoner desperate to escape yet torn because you’re in love----”  
“We need to feel that passion in the audience!” Bitty F. interrupted.  
Marie-Grace blushed.  
“Yeah,” said Bitty Q. “Cause right now the audience isn’t sure if you want to kiss him or if you’re going to be sick on him!”  
“I think I’ll do both,” Marie-Grace muttered. The pirate chuckled softly. Her face flushed red but he just smiled and squeezed her hand.  
“And you, pirate!” Bitty Q. called. The pirate looked over in alarm. “Stop making goo goo eyes at Marie-Grace and focus! She’s a prisoner here! She’s not free yet! You need to do a better job playing the mean old pirate captain who wants nothing to do with falling in love with a prisoner!”  
“Get into character!” Bitty F. scolded.  
“That I think we can manage,” the pirate whispered softly in Marie-Grace’s ear. It was her turn to laugh.  
Bitty F. slapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh for the love of----”  
“I knew we should have hired professionals!” Bitty Q. shouted. “Geesh guys, work with me here, work with me!”  
“And exactly how much are you paying us for this?” The pirate wanted to know.  
“Paying you?” said Bitty F. “For playing yourself? Who said anything about paying you?”  
“So you’re planning to make millions off the story of our lives but not give us a cut of the cash? This is an outrage!”  
“You’re a pirate!” Bitty F. reminded him. “Since when do you earn money by an honest day’s work?”  
“You’re right,” the pirate grumbled, “and as soon as this is over, maybe I’ll go rob your bank to teach you a thing or two about piracy.” Marie-Grace smothered a laugh.  
Bitty F. said, “If we were gonna pay people then we would have hired someone who could act!”  
The pirate was about to open his mouth and argue no one could play Captain of the French Pirates better than he could when suddenly Bitty Q. screamed bloody murder into her megaphone. Argos the dog howled and the pirate covered Marie-Grace’s ears with his hands.  
“Stop talking and get to work!” Bitty Q. shouted. “There will be no money for anyone if you guys can’t pull yourselves together and put together a decent show! This is going to backfire horribly! Wow me! Dazzle me! Do something to amaze the audience and leave them wanting more! It’s all smoke and mirrors here, people! The magic of show biz and the key to success in life is to fake confidence and never be yourself.”  
Marie-Grace said, “Don’t you mean have confidence and always be yourself?”  
That did it. Bitty Q. threw her megaphone across the room and it hit the wall, scattering a group of mimes like ninepins. “If you know so much then why don’t you direct?” Her whole bald head was flaming red with anger and she was panting hard with hands curled into fists.   
“Okay,” said Bitty F. reaching to take Bitty Q.’s arm. “Take five everyone while I talk to our director in private.”  
Finally with a moment to themselves, the pirate crossed his arms and glared down at Marie-Grace. “So this is your dream, huh?”  
Marie-Grace frowned. “What do you mean? I hate la scene! Why would you wish for this nightmare?”  
Now the pirate frowned. “What?”  
She reached up on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Je suis seulement de le faire pour vous.”  
“So am I.”  
Marie-Grace gasped. “What?”  
Then a light bulb came on and it became clear to both of them. The pirate growled low, almost primitive in his throat as he unconsciously touched the hilt of his sword. “They bamboozled the both of us!”  
“I’m sure they didn’t mean----”  
“Ti-Marie, they tricked us both. Neither one of us wants this, do we?”  
She hung her head. “Oui monsieur.”  
“Then I say we walk out now and leave them to clean up this train wreck on their own.”  
“But. . .” Marie-Grace sighed.  
“But . . . what?”  
“I would happily put an end to this madness but we’re committed now. We promised them we would. Would you really break a promise so easily?”  
The pirate thought for a moment, and she looked at him with heartbreak in her eyes. “Non, je ne pense pas. I am a man of my word, let’s do it. For them.”  
Marie-Grace perked up. “You really mean that?”  
He nodded. “Bien sur, we cannot disappoint those blubbering babies. If it’s a show they want, then it’s a show they’re going to get.”  
Marie-Grace swallowed hard, nerves eating away her insides. It really would be easier to walk away and not let the show go on but that would not be right. Fear of performing was just a thing she needed to conquer, and with a grin from her pirate captain as he put arm around her shoulder, she felt as if they could do anything. Except one tiny thought, a single thread of doubt, a warning of sorts typical of what Samantha might say wormed its way, what’s a pirate’s word worth?  
******************************************************************  
Thunder boomed in the distance and lightening lit up the sky as rain poured down from the swirling, sickly green colored clouds. The streets were slick making driving difficult although that didn’t matter much to the young girl standing in the shadows of a brightly lit theater. She wore a dark colored trench coat. Curly blond hair and bright blue eyes declared her innocence except the blood coursing through her veins was anything but. “I’m a Keabl,” she murmured in wonder hardly daring to believe in such a revelation. “I, Meredith Blake, am actually a Keabl.”   
Meredith seemed like an average, lame name for a girl who was so stupid as to forget who she really was. Meredith was a scared little normal girl. She wasn’t Meredith anymore. Yes, she thought, I’ll call myself something else. Martha. It was perfect. Regal. Villain sounding. Still an M, but something different that established her real identity.   
Somewhere in the world, an old man was dying. An old man who knew naught what it meant to be loved or give love, and that was perhaps the greatest tragedy of all, was exiting the world with nothing but greed and grief for company. As the old chap lay dying, Martha felt the thrust of power up inside her. It felt right, this gift no one wanted. If only the old grandpop had had a chance to talk with her and tell her all of his regrets then maybe Martha’s life, and her adopted family’s lives   
Martha Keabl, beloved playroom sister, had turned to the dark side. She set off to accomplish two things no villain mastermind had ever yet accomplished, rule the world and destroy the playroom.   
******************************************************************  
“All those days watching from the windows  
All those years outside looking in  
All that time never even knowing  
Just how blind I've been  
Now I'm here blinking in the starlight  
Now I'm here suddenly I see  
Standing here it's oh so clear---”

Marie-Grace suddenly broke off singing and sighed as she pounded her fists down in frustration on the piano. The practice room in the town’s theater was deserted today while Bitty Quansa and company were busy running around trying to organize things on stage making the back room the perfect place for the star of the show to run off and hide. “If only it was that clear,” she whispered, banging out another awful chord.  
“Whoa, what did that piano ever do to you?” said the pirate walking into the room.  
Marie-Grace jumped. “Oh, nothing. I’m just a bit frustrated with myself.”  
“Should I assume it’s about this grand musical production?”  
She nodded and in three perfect strides he closed the distance between them. Now he was standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders shivers scurrying down her spine and his voice warningly low in her ear, “May I see what you’re working on?”  
Marie-Grace blushed as she pointed to the sheet music before her. It was their big romantic duet, courtesy of the one, the only Bitty Baby Quansa. Marie-Grace’s heart was pounding in her chest when he frowned at it slightly. “C’est un scandale!”  
Her eyes widened. “What?”  
“This!” He picked up a sheet. “They so did not write this! They completely ripped this off of Disney! Has my life really just been reduced to a series of random Disney songs?”  
She struggled to keep a straight face but a laugh escaped her.  
He shook his head. “People pay them to come up with this garbage?”  
She sobered. “You really think it’s bad?”  
He took a seat beside her and turned to look intently at her. “No,” he sighed, “but I wish. . .”  
He did not finish his thought and Marie-Grace did not press him. Instead she said, “Plagiarism, can’t they be arrested for that?”  
He barked a laugh. “I doubt it. People can get away with a lot worse.”  
They fell silent for a moment, the pirate pondering his past criminal acts and Marie-Grace wondering what he exactly he meant by that statement. “Well,” said the pirate, “don’t let me interrupt.”  
She startled. “What?”  
He nodded to the piano. “Keep going, ca sonne beau.” Her face flushed hot. “And now that I’m here we might as well practice together. We are going to have to do it on stage in front of millions of people.”  
Marie-Grace felt a wave of panic surging up in her. “But . . . I . . . you. . .”  
“Nervous?” He took her hand in his and gazed deep into her eyes. “Don’t be. Forget the audience. They’re not important. It’s only me you have to worry about and I’ll be singing with you.”  
She took a deep breath and he nodded encouragingly at her. The air was awash with music as she began to play.   
All those days watching from the windows  
All those years outside looking in  
All that time never even knowing  
Just how blind I've been  
Now I'm here blinking in the starlight  
Now I'm here suddenly I see

What did she see? She saw the ivory keys glistening beneath her touch, notes leaping off the page as music filled the room, and finally, sitting beside her she saw. . . .  
Standing here it's oh so clear  
I'm where I'm meant to be

By his side, her heart drummed in perfect time with the music. This is where you are meant to be.  
And at last I see the light  
And it's like the fog has lifted  
And at last I see the light  
And it's like the sky is new  
And it's warm and real and bright  
And the world has somehow shifted

Her voice suddenly grew in strength with a new found confidence in the realization that this part was probably the easiest role she’d ever have to perform.  
All at once everything is different  
Now that I see you

Marie-Grace exhaled in relief. “Your turn,” she mouthed to him as she continued with instrumental interlude but he hardly heard for his mind was lost to a distant past as it tried to call and reclaim him.   
All those days chasing down a daydream  
All those years living in a blur  
All that time never truly seeing  
Things, the way they were

Things, the way they were, maybe life as a pirate was not all it was cracked up to be. But now. . . .  
Now she's here shining in the starlight  
Now she's here suddenly I know  
If she's here it's crystal clear  
I'm where I'm meant to go

When she’s here, his purpose seemed oh so clear. He was no longer a man adrift on the high seas of adventure. He turned to gaze lovingly down at Marie-Grace just as she turned to smile up at him. Together they sang:  
And at last I see the light   
And it's like the fog has lifted  
And at last I see the light  
And it's like the sky is new  
And it's warm and real and bright  
And the world has somehow shifted   
The piano slowly trickled out as Marie-Grace stopped playing. Magnetically, she turned towards him and their hands touched. They leaned close and gazed deep the other’s eyes as they sang the last lines:  
All at once everything is different  
Now that I see you  
Now that I see you  
The pirate held Marie-Grace so close they could hear the other’s rapidly beating heart and he kissed her soundly. Marie-Grace came up breathless and panting for air, her lungs intoxicated by him. “See?” The pirate whispered, “Nothing to be nervous about.” And he kissed her again.  
In the hallway, Cecile happened to be walking by. “Marie-Grace? Where are you? Bitty wants to get everyone costumed.” She stopped in the doorway of the practice room and blushed fiercely. “Oh, it looks like you’re busy.” She quietly closed the door, very thankful the Babies hadn’t been the ones to wander in. “I’ll come back another time then.”  
******************************************************************  
It was opening night with the show happening in less than 3 hours and the whole theater seemed to tremble with anxiety. For Quansa and company, this was a pinnacle part of their career. Success tonight meant a lifetime of fame and fortune, but failure meant disgraced public shame for the rest of their lives. You only have one shot to make it big and for most of the playroom people this was it. However, there were two playroom girls not reveling in the glories of potential stardom and were rather resenting their assigned lot in life to observe rather than partake in what would become PFV’s greatest musical of the century. “Well, this should be good!” said Nellie O’Malley sarcastically. She flicked a piece of garbage off her seat in the very last row. “Not!”  
“I’ll say,” said Samantha holding up a pair of binoculars. “After witnessing the train wreck they call dress rehearsal all these poor people are in for a real treat tonight! How come we’re never starring in these things?”   
“You want your name on this thing when it crashes and burns?”   
“No, of course no----”   
“At least this way we don’t have to be bossed around by the diva queens.”  
Samantha sighed. “I suppose you’re right. But would it kill them to put us in one play one time?”  
“The only part they would consider us for is----”  
“Extras. Yeah, I know. Is it bad to think they’d rather use magically enchanted cardboard cutouts than us?” Samantha banged her binoculars against the arm rest. “Oh, What’s the use? I can’t even see the stage with these things!”  
“Give me those,” Nellie grabbed the binoculars out of her friend’s hands. “Wow, these are really terrible. Here, let me. . . . .” She tinkered with them for a moment. “There we go, all fixed. And ooo-la-la. . . .”  
“What? What do you see?”  
“Mr. Hunk is practicing his sword play. Ouch, he’d better be careful to fake it or else he’ll end up killing that poor actor guy next to him. Come one, flex those muscles! There we go, that’s what I like to see!”  
“Nellie!” Samantha gasped.   
“What?” Nellie shrugged. “I’m a teenage girl. I’m allowed to admire and Marie-Grace has excellent taste in pirates.”  
“True that, true that . . . . . no! Snap out of it! I’ll take those.” She snatched the binoculars back and sighed deeply. “Nellie?”  
“Hmmm?”  
“Are we doing the right thing?”   
“As far as what goes? Giving Glogan real daggers and unleashing them in a room full of pirates or letting the babies put on a full Broadway production? Or giving Felicity the letter from Meredith’s grandfather and telling her to go to the library and research ancient evil magic---”  
“What’s this about Felicity?”   
“Nothing, go on.”  
Normally Samantha would demand to know what mischief Felicity was getting herself into this time, but today her worry for Marie-Grace seemed a more pressing issue than policing Felicity. “This whole pirate business. Should he really keep seeing her? I mean, he still is a pirate after all and I’ve heard some nasty rumors about----”  
“Samantha, pirates are always surrounded by myth and legends because they are trying to build their reputations as horrible people. The pirate may not be as cold as you fear he is. Besides, the pirate seems to really like Marie-Grace.”  
“Well, that’s the problem! How fine a line is it between I like you enough to hang out and have a good time and I love you enough to sacrifice my own life for yours? He could get her into some serious danger, Nellie. Like you said one careless swipe with that sword of his and the person next to you is dead. What if--”  
“You worry too much. We’ve all faced many scary life threatening hazards and we’ve all turned out fine, mostly. Remember the homeless vs Billy Bob Jones war of 07? Remember that trip to Italy?”  
“Oh, don’t remind me. That was the worst vacation ever, Felicity had me chasing her all over Rome and we all could have been killed because of her!”  
“See? You lived. Marie-Grace can take care of herself,” Nellie said with a straight face. They both busted up laughing. “Okay, I know she’s not dynamite Felicity. Aside from being weak as a kitten she’s got her good points.”  
Samantha went on as if she hadn’t heard this kitten comment for it did nothing to ease her worry for the girl. “And there is his whole crew. Dating the girl means dating her family but courting the captain means courting his crew.”  
“I think----”  
“Who knows what kind of ruffians are in that band of criminals of his? Not to mention being the only girl aboard with all those----”  
“Samantha! Marie-Grace will turn out just fine. The pirate would never let anything bad happen to her.”  
“I hope you’re right.”  
“Well, I’m mostly sure. You never really can tell until it’s too late. We need to let Marie-Grace go and experience things and blossom and have adventures for herself.”  
In theory, Samantha knew this. Living in a world of fantastical magic also meant facing all the danger that comes with it. The playroom people had to learn to face both the benefits of magic and awesome adventure along with the consequences. But it was so hard for Samantha to willing let her sisters embrace the dark side of PFV. She knew she had to let Marie-Grace make her own decision and have her own daring quest to embark on, yet she feared all the real damage that could be done if something went wrong. “What if he’s just fooling around with her now but plans to sail off and break her heart? None of us have ever had that serious of a relationship before. We’re sailing in uncharted waters here! I just don’t want to see her get hurt!”  
“I don’t either. But she’ll get through-----”  
“If only there was some way to test him----”  
“No!”  
“But Nellie!”  
“No meddling! What’s going to happen is going to happen without you sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.” Although they didn’t know it yet, circumstances would provide the perfect test for the pirate’s heart.  
“Oh, alright. I’ll stay of it. . . . for now.”  
“That’s my girl.”  
“But if he hurts our little girl-----”  
“Yeah, yeah. Off with his head and he’ll wish he was never born. We’ll go all mama bear on him. Give me those binoculars. I want to admire some more.”  
******************************************************************  
“What’s wrong with him?” whispers echoed among the crew as their captain paced the length of the prop ship Logan had built earlier that day.   
“He’s been like this all day!”  
“Is he. . . . nervous?”  
“No!”  
“It simply can’t be!”  
“Not the man who lead us through the pirate war of ’09!”  
“Then what . . . .?”  
“Shh!” A crew member slipped his hand over the other dude’s mouth. “Don’t let him hear----”  
A sword came flying out of nowhere, the point aimed directly for the heart of the crewman who dared call his captain a coward. The blade sliced through the man’s shirt above the shoulder pinning him to the wood mast behind him. Trembling, his buddies around him scattered. In a deep growly voice the captain said, “You were saying?”  
“N-nothing c-captain sir!”  
The captain was about to reply when there was a tremor in the deck and the whole ship slanted sideways. This ship was just a prop meant for the stage and not actual sailing. The impact of a sword slamming into it caused the whole mast, sails, rigging, and spotlights to come crashing down to earth putting a crater in the stage. Sparks flew as the wires hit the floor. The curtain toppled over it suddenly bursting into flames. “Yes!” shouted Gwen in victory. “It’s not my fault! I didn’t do it this time!”  
“Yeah, but you’re still going to have to clean it up,” said Logan.   
“No way----”  
“Gwendolyn Lindashire!” Bitty Quansa screamed at the top of her lungs. “Get your butt over here immediately and fix this mess!”  
“Told you so!” cried Logan.   
“But Bitty!” Gwen whined. “It wasn’t-----”  
“Show time in one hour fifty eight minutes and thirty seconds!” called Bitty F. “And Gwen thinks we have all the time in the world! Well, guess what? This equipment doesn’t grow in trees!”  
“Yeah, it kinda does,” said Gwen.  
“What?”  
“It’s paper isn’t it? That ship is made of cardboard! Doesn’t paper come from trees?”  
“Shut up, Gwen,” chimed in Bitty Quansa. “And this is coming out of your pay check.”   
“But I don’t get paid!” wailed Gwen. “How can you-----”  
“Oh, good,” broke in Bitty Q., “because clumsy oafs like you don’t deserve to get paid!”  
“But I didn’t----”  
“Now!” Gwen obeyed while Logan sat over to the side laughing her head off. “You too Logan!”  
The laughter stopped abruptly. “What?”  
“You heard me, get to it! If I leave this in Gwen’s oh so capable hands she might burn down the whole theater!”  
“Fine,” Logan grumbled. “I’ll help you this one time.”  
“The pirate should be doing this,” muttered Gwen. “It’s not fair!”  
“Well, no one ever said show biz is fair!” retorted Bitty Q.   
“The pirate is needed back stage,” explained Bitty F. “Big stars don’t do the dirty work.”  
With as many grunts, sighs and complaints as possible, Glogan quickly got to work putting out the fire and rebuilding the sets. The pirate smiled grimly at them as he went backstage. He sat hunched over his knees, his head hung in misery. He didn’t notice the shadow of a girl appear beside him. “May I join you?”  
“Oh, hey Cecile. He gestured to the empty chair next to him. “Sure, have a seat.”  
She hesitated for a moment then said, “Nervous?”  
“No!” the pirate exploded. “No! Nervous? Who me? I am a fearless pirate captain who has seen many bloody battles innocent eyes like yours shall never witness. Why would a silly little performance like this rattle me?” In truth, the pirate was nervous and this fact did rattle him far more than he cared to admit. He had faced unspeakable life or death trauma in his years on the high seas yet this, this stupid musical babies wrote had him shaking in his boots. Give him a sword, give him a duel to the death and he wouldn’t bat an eye, but this? Impossible! Unlike Marie-Grace, who often let her nerves get the best of her, the pirate could play it cool under pressure. He wasn’t exactly pleased every detail of his personal life was torn apart in the factory of fiction and would be placed under the microscope of the spotlight, but he could probably squelch down the rising emotion or at least better than Marie-Grace could. Her face, her beautiful face, clouded his mind like a hazy mist of salt spray at dawn crashing over the bow. How could he manage to keep up a casual friendship after this display to the watching world? True, that had shared a kiss a couple of times and always vowed to never mention it or say. . . .  
No! The pirate shook his head. He did not, could not care for her in that way. He sighed. He couldn’t even fool himself anymore. But what about Marie-Grace? What was she thinking? A macho pirate could not admit. . . . and he knew she was much too timid to approach him even if she did.   
“You know pirate,” said Cecile cautiously. “It’s okay to feel----”  
“No!” The pirate burst. “I am perfectly fine, no, happy with tonight’s script and----”  
Cecile put a hand on his arm. “You don’t need to put up walls in front of me. I won’t spill like most people would around here. The worst part about living in the playroom is how once you’ve shared something meaningful you become the butt of many jokes for years to come.”  
“Well, I know how that feels,” said the pirate bitterly thinking of his past again.   
“So tonight,” continued Cecile, “is going to be a challenge for everyone involved Marie-Grace most of all. She has great talent. You and I both know she can do this, but she doesn’t have that confidence herself that she needs. She needs you. Be her strong anchor tonight. Don’t let what others think and say distract you from her.”  
Since when was Cecile the wise sage around here? “Merci Cecile,” he said collapsing her hand in gratitude.   
“Pirate!” the shrill voice of the director called over the din. “Pirate! Where did that boy go when I need him?!”   
“Ne le mentionne pas,” said Cecile slowly backing into the shadows. She was not in any hurry to face the wrath of the Bitti.   
The pirate heard the voice calling him and promptly ran in the opposite direction. No one, not even a flaming bald Bitty, could distract him from his mission to find Marie-Grace.  
******************************************************************  
Marie-Grace Gardner was trembling uncontrollably as she peered around the edge of the closed curtain. She didn’t know why she bothered because the sight of millions of people taking their seats to watch her perform did nothing to calm her fears. Glogan had finished their repairs and the set appeared to be no worse off than it had before if a bit singed. Their actions today, destroying the stage, just added to her growing worries of what if worst case scenario. She inhaled deeply to try and keep from hyperventilating when she felt strong arms encircle her. “Ma Cherie Ti-Marie,” said her pirate captain. “Stop shaking so. You can do this and you will dazzle them all. Just you wait and see.”  
Marie-Grace’s lip began to quiver. “Mais c’e’st impossible.”  
The pirate shook his head. He pulled her close and Marie-Grace melted in his embrace. “As long as we’re together,” he whispered. “N’est-ce pas?”  
Wordlessly, Marie-Grace nodded feeling somewhat better yet still nervous. Never in a million years should she have agreed to this. By this she meant having her life stripped bare before a crowd in the form of a musical. Thanks to a certain mime who wrote the story down and made a hefty profit for himself the audience already knew her tale and were expecting certain things. It was Marie-Grace and the pirate’s job to make the magic of their story come alive. And what was their epic exactly? A fairy tale or a saga of friendship? Or maybe something more than that? She had no idea where the pirate desired the ending to go. Marie-Grace felt she was going to be sick. She could almost hear the booing now. If only she knew what was on the pirate’s heart at that moment. They both starting speaking at the same time, “Il y a quelque chose que je dois te dire.”   
“Oh?” the pirate raised an eyebrow.   
Marie-Grace blushed. “No, you first.”  
“No, you.”  
She shook her head. Now how to turn this into a passionately romantic moment? thought the pirate. Alright, I’ll just say it. Like ripping off a band aid. “Marie-Grace,” he took her hands in his and gazed deeply into her eyes, her lashes sparkling with the traces of tears. “I lo----”  
“Oh, Marie-Grace!” Meredith trilled. “Just the person I wanted to see.”  
The pirate suddenly dropped her hands as if they were hot potatoes. “You were saying?” Marie-Grace begged in a whisper.   
“Nothing,” he muttered and her heart fell. She looked away, crestfallen.   
“There you are my dear,” said Meredith forcefully grabbing Marie-Grace’s hand and pulling her away.   
“No, wait!” Marie-Grace insisted to no avail for Meredith just kept tugging at her. “Pirate?” she said softly. “Please?”  
“No, it’s not important.” She felt her heart snap in half at those words. “I’ll see you on stage. Remember. . . .” I love you. I love you. I love you! Come on, you idiot! The pirate scolded himself. Just say it already, she needs to know. But Meredith’s presence would not allow his mouth to work. “Don’t worry. If something happens, even if you’re just on edge and need someone to understand, look at me and I’ll help you through. We’re in this mess together.”   
She nodded. He watched as she walked off with her adopted sister Meredith wishing fiercely that it was his arm hers was linked through.  
******************************************************************  
“What do you want Meredith?” Marie-Grace said in an out of character growl of irritation. Usually she didn’t use such a harsh tone, but she sensed the pirate was about to say something important he would not so easily let say again, something Marie-Grace desperately longed to hear and she was rather frustrated at Meredith’s timing.   
Meredith’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I’ll just go----”  
“No! You have my attention, tell me now.”  
“Oh, no. I don’t want to be a bother.” Meredith burst into tears that were anything but genuine. “As the new girl, you know, I thought you would understand. And I just wanted to wish you luck tonight and say how I’m so jealous of you becoming a big star. I wanted to make sure you know I have full confidence in you to pull off a stunning performance tonight.”  
“I’m sorry Meredith.” Marie-Grace drew her in for a hug. “I do understand what it’s like to be new to PFV, how there’s a struggle at first but you’ll find it. This is home. We are your family. I’m just a little stressed right now, that’s all. I promise you’ll get your chance someday too.”  
Oh honey, I will, thought Meredith manically. Things are already in motion and you have a starring part. She smiled brightly, innocently, her big blue eyes sparkling in the dim backstage light. “Do you really mean it?” Throw in a sniffle for good measure, yes! Martha you’re a wonderful actress.   
“Oh, of course I do ,” Marie-Grace continued distractedly. She went up on her tiptoes trying to peer around Meredith to get a glimpse of the pirate.   
Meredith’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I know you’re busy----”  
“Hmmm? Did you say something?”  
“YES! My great grandfather had this lucky charm. It’s a family heirloom and a family tradition to press the charm into the victim’s, I mean person who needs luck, skin in order to give them magic to----”  
“No thanks.” The pirate smiled at Marie-Grace. “I don’t need magic to help me.”   
“No, no, you misunderstand. It’s just a silly superstitious ritual; the magic will do nothing to aide you.”  
“Forty five seconds until show time!” Bitty Q wailed.   
“Places people!” ordered Bitty F.  
Marie-Grace tried to move past Meredith. “Sorry, but I must----”  
“It will only take a minute!”  
“I don’t have a minute!” At last Marie-Grace broke free from Meredith. Meredith threw the ancient charm shaped like a scorpion and it latched onto Marie-Grace’s wrist, sucking like a leech. “Ouch! What was---?”  
“Nothing!” cried Meredith knowing full well the enchanted scorpion had bitten her. The devilish fiend flew back to Martha and tried to perch in her hair, but she shooed the sucker away.   
“Twenty five seconds!”  
Marie-Grace skidded into place beside the pirate. He squeezed her hand and smiled softly at her. Marie-Grace closed her eyes and grimaced as if she were in pain. She wanted to examine her wrist, but there wasn’t time and the pirate was holding that hand. The show must go on. She never should have agreed to star in the Bitties musical. Everyone in PFV seemed curious as to what the musical protégée and her friend would come up with. And Bitty F had plans of blowing them out of the water. Of course her plan centered on Marie-Grace and the French pirate playing a part. Whatever Meredith did to her, why she would do that to her struck Marie-Grace as weird made her uneasy and did not bode well for her performance. Now Marie-Grace was feeling quite dizzy and wasn’t sure if would make it through. “Bitty!” Marie-Grace grabbed Bitty F’s arm as she walked by. “Are you sure about this?”  
“Of course I’m sure! We wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t!”  
“But. . .....but. . .” The pirate swung his head to behold her with a question in his eyes. “I’m scared,” she whispered. The pirate clasped her hand tighter.   
Bitty just dismissed her worries with a wave of her hand. “They’ll love ya. PFV audiences tend to go nuts for pirate adventure stories and fairy tale romances so you’ll be just fine.” With that said, Bitty F. marched to center stage to announce, “Ladies and gentlemen or I should say Mesdames et messieurs Bitty Quansa productions proudly presents Captured by French Pirates! The musical!”  
In the front row, Mime #52 stood up pointed to himself and took a bow. Standing in the wings the pirate rolled his eyes and whispered in Marie-Grace’s ear, “I should have thrown him overboard when I had the chance.” To his relief, she giggled.   
“Oh, yeah,” Bitty F. added. “Based on the true story written by Mime #52!” His only applause was the crickets chirping in the background. The crowd went nuts when Bitty Q walked across the stage and took a bow. As she said her piece the anticipation for Marie-Grace and the pirate went through the roof. He began to sweat and wondered when he had arrived in the tropical Caribbean, the pirate haven of the world. Her heart was pounding so loud she was curious as to who was playing timpani at that moment. Just as the curtain started to rise the pirate whispered, “Are you ready?”  
She let out a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” and stepped into the spotlight.  
******************************************************************  
Samantha’s jaw hung open as she watched the show through her binoculars, taking turns sharing them with Nellie. Gone were the amateurish games and squabbling children she had overseen earlier. In their place stood young professionals. Professionals who projected well on stage and presented so fully the heart of their characters, brave, loving, fierce, hilarious, courageous, quirky, with all the gentle tenderness a blossoming romance should have. They story sucked the audience in making them feel as if they were really there that fateful night Marie-Grace was kidnapped by pirates.   
The dancing was precise and on point despite how the clumsy crew used to be. In rehearsal, one crew member who was not light on his feet tripped and sent everyone toppling like dominoes. Topple they did not this evening. Samantha frowned when she saw the sets looking far more gorgeous than ever before and far more fabulous than what she knew they could afford. She wondered how much of the stage decorations and special effects were made of magic.   
The pirate’s performance was most impressive. True, he was playing himself and that concept tends to make one over compensate and act not like himself. The pirate nailed it flawlessly. He seemed so comfortable, so natural up there it was hard to believe he had never even been in a play before. And when he was with Marie-Grace. . . .  
Gone was the fierce pirate captain. During the scenes when they were alone together he acted just as if he really was alone with her and there were not 7 billion people watching intently. It was a side of him Samantha had never seen before because, of course, it was the side of him he had only ever let Marie-Grace see. There was a softness, a gentleness to him that made Samantha suddenly understand why he was so irresistible and why Marie-Grace was so drawn to him. Samantha wanted with all her heart to believe it was there, the warm gushiness of love displayed towards her adopted sister. But she knew it was just a musical that could very well be fictionalized in a few places. Samantha was still wary of this pirate’s ability to hurt her sister and vowed to keep an even closer eye on him.   
Marie-Grace was absolutely stunning. Every ounce of shyness and nerves evaporated beneath the spotlight. Yes, as odd as it sounds, she was confident and comfortable acting on stage. The Bitties were so blown away by her, even they didn’t think she could actually do it, they began plotting what musical they would have her star in next. Marie-Grace truly shone that night, her eyes never wavering from her pirate, her focus, her purpose for this performance. She even danced beautifully. Marie-Grace is known for being a terrible dancer, but what she lacks in talent there she made up for in hard work. True, her steps were simple and uncomplicated a person with two left feet could do it but her voice more than made up for it. Boy, mused Samantha, could that girl sing! Her voice was a rich, high, crystal clear tone that sounded like a whole choir of angels conveying every depth and breadth of emotion and passion humanity faces here on earth. And even more shocking, the pirate could sing well too. Not as well as Marie-Grace of course, but his voice was also pleasant and he did dance better than her. Samantha wondered where he learned to dance like that. Yes, the two of them together held lots of promise for the world of show biz and Samantha knew she would never be in one of Bitty’s musicals now.   
**************************************************************  
“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me  
We pillage, we plunder, and we rifle, and loot  
Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho  
We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot  
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho  
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me  
We extort, we pilfer, we filch, and sack  
Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho  
Maraud and embezzle, and even high-jack  
Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho  
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me  
We kindle and char, inflame and ignite  
Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho  
We burn up the city, we're really a fright  
Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho  
We're rascals, scoundrels, villains, and knaves  
Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho  
We're devils and black sheep, really bad eggs---”

“I refuse to believe that,” Marie-Grace said stoutly, hands on her hips.  
A tankard slammed into the table so hard the crew jumped as ale splashed out in droplets. Eyes foreshadowing a warning glinted off the sword held to her throat. His eyes met hers with a spark so intense, a spark so radiant not even the most oblivious of mankind would fail to miss the flare of love between them.  
“What did you say?” The pirate said in a low growl.  
Marie-Grace swallowed hard, her courage fading fast. “I said----” she broke off as her gaze drifted out the corner of her eye, away from the sword, the pirate, and the task at hand. Her heart started racing wildly. She clenched and unclenched her fingers in her skirt trying to wipe the sweat from her palms.  
Before she could completely give way to panic the pirate oh so gently nudged her chin with the very tip of his sword. “Focus. Live in the moment. Look at me,” he mouthed struggling to restrain himself from taking her in his arms and kissing her.  
She took a deep breath. Almost seemingly calm, cool, and collected she stated frankly, “I said, Captain,” she curtsied, “that I refuse to believe you’re as ruthless or carefree as you say.”  
Instead of killing her like one might expect from a fearsome pirate he let out a laugh. To Marie-Grace’s ears it sounded fake and forced, which it was, but to everyone else watching it sounded merciless like a good pirate captain should.  
“Tell me princess,” said the pirate, “what makes you so sure? Pirates are the vicious coldest blooded breed out there-----”  
“If I may be so bold monsieur,” Marie-Grace interrupted, “I believe, no I know, there is good in everyone despite their evil deeds. Even you despicable pirates. And a pirate’s life------”  
“Is a short one but a merry one,” said the pirate putting his sword away. “And I’ll thank you not to-----”  
“I was going to say lonely. A pirate’s life is lonely.”  
Lonely? The pirate frowned. That wasn’t the line Bitty wrote.  
“Lonely because when you’re sailing away after pillaging the village you have no one to count the riches with but yourself. You have no one to share the spoils, the glories and the heart wrenching trials of life with. No soft hand to cling to in the middle of the night as haunting bloody face after face appears in your nightmares reminding you of what you’ve done. Guilt eating away at you until there’s nothing but a withered man crying out for redemption when it’s far too late for such salvation. Lonely because no matter how hard you seek, no matter how hard you chase after it, treasure will never get you what really matters in life. Because no one in their right mind could ever love a pirate.”  
The Captain of the French Pirates gaped. He sputtered. He choked. He could not get his mind to work. Could not get his tongue to move. His jaw fell open so far it almost came unhinged. Never before had Marie-Grace expressed such thoughts about the life he lived, the dangers he faced, the life he loved and now was a fine time to start chatting about it!  
Marie-Grace blinked and realizing what she had done put a hand over her mouth. She stumbled back; her face flushed a sickly green color. Her reaction caused the pirate to snap out of it. He knew something wasn’t right. He debated for a moment. As much as he wanted to sweep her up in his arms and check her over to make sure she really wasn’t alright or if it was just hopefully his imagination playing a trick on him, he knew he could not step out of his role or change the script. But he did. He caught Marie-Grace as she fell dead away in a faint.   
Pages were flying in the front row as Bitty Quansa furiously tore apart the script. “What the heck are they doing up there?” Bitty F. hissed in her ear. “This is not supposed to happen!”  
“I don’t know!” Bitty Q. whispered back. “But they’re messing up my show!”   
The other actors on stage, playroom people and crew member alike, also knew this wasn’t supposed to happen but they shrugged and let the punches roll. As long as they played along with what was happening and followed the pirate’s cues, they knew the performance would turn out all right in the end. They knew what improvisation was and they excelled at it. They quickly rearranged the set to change scenes. Now they were in the captain’s private quarters. The captain nodded gratefully to his buddies standing in the wings as he laid Marie-Grace on the bed. He felt her forehead and shrugged. It was unusually warm but they were all unusually warm under those lights. “Ti-Marie,” he whispered. His mic was on and the audience strained to hear every word. “Speak to me, please.” He gently shook her. “Please, be alright. Oh, please...” He bowed his head over her dramatically and turned to his back to the audience so they wouldn’t see what he was about to do. He took her pulse. To his great relief, still strong. He frowned. Her skin seemed to be getting a rash but thankfully with her long sleeved dress no one in the audience could see. Maybe she could still keep going? Or had he better pull the plug on this operation? The show must always go on! He decided to ham it up a bit for drama’s sake. “Oh, mon cheri Ti-Marie. You can’t leave me, not yet. Prisoners don’t decide when they leave. I need you by my side forever and always, my love.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Je t’aime.”  
The audience gasped. Those words, those glorious words that Marie-Grace had so longed to hear were now lost on her as she lay unconscious on stage. “Pirate?” She said groggily lifting her head.   
“Ma Cherie, hush. Not a hair on your head will be harmed while I’m captain of this ship.” The crowd roared with cheers. He mouthed to her, “The show must go on.”   
“I’ll do my very best for you, captain,” was her answer to both the pirate and the audience.   
“I know you will.”   
The applause died down and the play moved on scene by scene, the correct scenes the Bitties wrote with no more adding. Bitty F and Bitty Q. uttered sighs of relief when things got back on track. There would be words with their budding stars when this was over. Despite not feeling well, Marie-Grace still gave an awe inspiring performance. The pirate helped her out by eliminating a rather taxing musical number, much to the Bitty’s distress, but the pirate knew if she had tried to dance that one all would be lost. He was so proud of her for sticking through it and making the show go on, yet he was also very, very, very worried about her well-being. The pirate was the only one to notice that Marie-Grace was feeling a little under the weather and he was amazed how she still managed the performance as if nothing was wrong. Marie-Grace, for her part, was so hopped up with the adrenaline she was able to push the thought aside for the moment. And so the grand musical continued, just as astounding and phenomenal as everyone hoped it would be.   
At long last, it was time to take their bows. First the background characters danced their way onto the stage. Then the main sidekicks had their moment of glory before standing aside for the stars. Just before they went out for finale, the pirate frowned at Marie-Grace. “How are you holding up?”  
“I’m fine,” Marie-Grace croaked through gritted teeth and he knew she was anything but. On stage, the other actors glanced nervously at each other. The audience kept clapping but it won’t last for long if Marie-Grace and the pirate didn’t show their faces soon.   
“Can you handle finale?” He put an arm around her waist.   
“I-I don’t know. Support me?”   
He did one better. As if she were light as a feather he swept her up into his arms and glided across the stage as the audience roared with pleasure. He wished they would stop clapping already so he could get this girl home. “Can you take your bow?” he whispered in her ear.   
She nodded and he carefully set her down. He bowed elegantly and she curtsied masterfully. She reached for his arm and he lent her all his support. To his distress, the Bitty came out on stage and took her turn in the spotlight which lasted all of five minutes. Of course Bitty Q, the even more famous one, had to have a turn too. Marie-Grace was fading fast and this was agony for both of them. Finally, the applause started to die out. Until the standing ovation.   
“That’s all folks!” Bitty F shouted with one last bow. She gave the signal to Parker to close the curtain on this another astonishing performance by the playroom people.   
******************************************************************  
No one in the audience noticed Marie-Grace’s green complexion and her fall just before the curtain except Samantha Parkington. The performance had her enthralled despite her misgivings beforehand. That one scene in the middle puzzled her for she knew it wasn’t supposed to be there and was at a complete loss as to why they would have changed it the way they did. Until she saw Marie-Grace’s face flush green as she fell into the pirate’s arms. Then she knew something was up. “Come on, Nellie!” Samantha grabbed her friend’s arm as she pushed their way through the crowd.   
“Where are we going?”   
“To the stage!”  
“Oh no,” Nellie moaned. “Why do I not like the feeling of this?”  
“Back up, give her some room!” yelled a male voice from the backstage area.   
“Marie-Grace, Marie-Grace! What’s wrong with her?” asked Bitty Q.   
“Oh, I’m sure she’s fine,” said Bitty F.   
“Eww!” squealed Gwen. “So not fine!”   
“Not on my stage!”  
“Would you shut up?!” the pirate glowered at them.   
“What is going on here?!” Samantha surveyed the scene before her. Marie-Grace, her face pale tinged with green sat hunched over her knees vomiting. The pirate sat beside her, holding her hair and rubbing her back.   
“What does it look like?” said Logan using her beret to wipe the mime face paint off her cheek. “Marie-Grace is dying!”  
A dagger sailed over Logan’s head, missing her by a centimeter.   
“I thought mimes can’t talk!” said Nellie. “How ever did you manage that performance?”  
“Oh, it was----”  
Marie-Grace moaned. She collapsed against the pirate and he said, “Mon cheri puis-je vous porter à la maison?”   
“Speak English, por favor!” demanded Bitty F. “No one likes it when you ramble in French!”  
“He tends to spout French when he’s upset,” explained Logan calmly.   
“Poor pirate,” sighed Gwen. “If she really is dying----”  
“No one is dying!” exclaimed Samantha. “Now, let me see her----”  
“Excusez-moi,” the pirate gently lifted Marie-Grace in his arms with all the adopted sisters fluttering about.   
Marie-Grace pulled his head down to meet hers, “Ne me quitte pas.” She closed her eyes and leaned into his strength.   
“Never,” he answered and carried her all the way home to play road.   
*****************************************************************  
It seemed Felicity was the only one who did not make a fuss over Marie-Grace. She did a head count and realized one other person was missing; Meredith Blake or she should say Keabl. Felicity crept into Marie-Grace’s dressing room. Everything appeared to be normal. Costumes flung willy nilly on the floor, shoes and ribbons scattered everywhere, a tattered copy of the script with handwritten notes resting on the coffee table next to a plate of cheap muffins. She went to the dressing room table, sniffed the open bottle of perfume, poked a finger at the blush and mascara, nothing smelled poisonous to her and Felicity could usually instantly identify 3,000 different types of PFV poison. She flicked on the mirror light and frowned when in the mirror she saw something oddly shaped lying on the floor behind her. Slowly she turned. It buzzed like a bug and was glowing purple. Felicity reached into her skirt for some tongs, colonial clothing is great for storing stuff you might need at a moment’s notice, and knelt to pick it up. She rotated her wrist to get a better look at the object without touching it or bringing it closer to herself. “Gotcha,” she said as she carefully dumped it into a magic tight baggie. It was a scorpion. Suddenly she knew why it was here, what it did, and more importantly who put it there.   
Now, there were many actions Felicity could have taken right that moment. She could have run to the magical disease office and reported it so officials would quarantine Marie-Grace before it spread through the whole city. She could have run home and told everyone what was going on before they accidently inflicted more damage on themselves. She could have gone back to the library and read that book about Witchcraft disease so she could set about finding the cure or gotten a book on the Keabl knights so she would know how to defeat a Keabl. Felicity did none of these things. She knew who was behind it, and that was enough for her. She wanted to take her down. When a target is sighted in Felicity’s eyes there is no stopping her from chasing after it. The hunt for the last Keabl began.   
******************************************************************  
Back at the ranch. . . .   
The captain of the French pirates knew that most of the playroom people were adopted from different times in history. Not being an expert in antiques, the mash up of furniture in the room made it hard to pinpoint where what was and what belonged to whom. He knew Marie-Grace was from 1853, but he did not know what a bed from that time period looked like or where in the room was her area. Samantha gestured to a low wooden bed with a teal headboard, pink bedding, and an overarching canopy at the head with mosquito netting attached. The pirate nodded gratefully to her and gently lowered Marie-Grace.   
As soon as he placed Marie-Grace on her bed, Bitty Q. fainted. Her whole face turned green and she howled at the moon like a wolf. A giant purple boil formed on her head. It erupted with magic. Bitty cried as she ran around in a circle screaming. With her magic messed up, Bitty flew unwillingly and a whole bunch of objects shot up into the sky with her. The worst part of magic diseases is that you still get all the normal symptoms like, sneezing, vomiting, coughing, etc. along with all the magic symptoms which include but are not limited to flying, enchanting inanimate objects, eating wands, etc. Bitty F. soon followed.   
“Bitty!” Samantha rushed to them, Marie-Grace completely forgotten. Next it was Molly, Emily, and Elizabeth, whoever had the most contact with Marie-Grace backstage and in the musical. Nellie helped Samantha round up the sick kids, wrestle them into their pajamas, and strap them into bed. Standard playroom sick procedure was followed exactly. By now, Samantha and Nellie had this down to a science. However, the magic element added a layer of chaos that they were not prepared for. Never before had so many playroom kids had a magic disease all at once and Samantha was not equipped to handle it. “Gwen!” Samantha barked.   
“Uh, no one is available----”  
“Are you bouncing off the walls yet?”  
“If I say yes, does that mean----”  
“Get over here and help us!”  
“Yes, sir! I mean ma’am!”  
So Gwen became Samantha’s goofy assistant. Surprisingly, she actually proved to be invaluable help. All the while, the pirate sat at Marie-Grace’s bedside stroking her hand and looking grim. He cared for her better than any nurse. Being on a pirate ship made him a capable medic because he regularly had to patch up his crewmen and himself.   
Marie-Grace lay with her energy quickly fading. She was the only one who did not seem to have any magic symptoms. She was conscious but she couldn’t seem to move for the great terrible weight of sickness resting upon her. She felt a warm, welcoming hand hanging onto hers for dear life. As she struggled to open her eyes, she heard Samantha say, “What in the world is happening to us now?” Finally remembering Marie-Grace she glanced at the pirate and asked, “Is she okay?”  
“No.” Steely, solemn pirate eyes bore into Samantha creating a dreadful sense of fear. “No, she is not okay. No one in this house is okay nor will anyone in this family ever be okay again.”   
“Except me!” cried Logan. Logan is often immune to such playroom going ons. No one dared question it, it just is.   
“What kind of disease is this anyway?” inquired Nellie.   
The pirate turned back to Marie-Grace and quietly said, “Witchcraft. The first stage is the green faces and purple magic boils. The second phase is the insanity, the craziness with the magic. The third stage is forgetfulness. They will forget who they are, where they’re from, everything. The fourth and final stage is pale faced, laying still, you cannot move no matter how hard you try. It seems some people can skip stages because Marie-Grace here is on the fourth. Each stage lasts a different length for each person. The final stage is death or transformation into an evil witch with your magic all screwy. Once you’re a witch, green face, warts, and broom stick you have no memory of your former life and are stuck that way for the rest of eternity. There is no cure. Or at least, not one most people know about.”   
Samantha and Nellie looked at each other in horror. “How do you know?”   
“My parents had it,” the pirate growled in irritation. Marie-Grace strained to hear, wishing she had known and longing to comfort him. “I am an orphan, remember? When I was nine years old I watched both of my parents die of this wretched disease. That’s how I first became a pirate. I stole a merchant ship and sailed all over the world with my best friend the second mate searching for the cure. We actually did find it, but by the time I returned home it was too late. Both of my parents were gone. To this day, I don’t know if they died or if they became witches.”  
Oh, my poor, poor, pirate, thought Marie-Grace, No wonder there is still all that bitterness. If only I could. . . . She struggled to sit up, and the pirate pushed her back, “Hush, mon cheri, rest now. If you tax yourself the end comes quicker.” He didn’t mean to frighten her, but he filled her with horrified despair.   
“Wait a minute,” said Samantha. “You’re telling me that you’re the only person on the planet who knows what the cure is for this disease and you didn’t tell anybody?!”  
“Yup. I only had one bottle and I tossed it overboard when I saw. . . . anyhow, no one would have believed me because I was just a thieving kid. I was lucky that they tossed me into the orphanage instead of jail.”   
“You, you!” Samantha burst. “You scoundrel! How could you not bring the cure to anyone?! Just because you’re parents didn’t survive doesn’t mean you could not have prevented other----”  
“What’s done is done,” the pirate growled. He couldn’t bear to see her so greenly pale and so near death. It was worse than being surrounded by a thousand pirates all with swords aimed at his throat. Worse still than the lifeless image of his mother, sickly and pale, all the love in the world fading fast before his very eyes. “Now, being in the situation that you’re in, your whole family dying of a very contagious disease---”  
Green started to creep up Nellie’s neck.   
“---and there is no cure known to anyone but me, I highly recommend you stop antagonizing me and don’t waste the little time you have left condemning me and start begging for help instead. Marie-Grace is very ill. So are the rest of you people and I intend to get the cure again. Only this time, I will back it back to save her. I make no guarantees about the rest of you, but I will save her.”  
“Ooo,” cried Logan. “Take me! Take me! I wanna come!”  
“No,” refused the pirate. “I don’t want to deal with a sick kid on board.”  
“Aw, come on! Please? I won’t get sick! I can’t get sick! It’s physically impossible because I’ve been working in my lab to make myself immune to all magic disease.”  
“You did it to me too, right?” said Gwen.   
“Um. . . .sure?”  
“Besides,” said Logan to the pirate. “You need my help.”  
“No, I don’t. I did it when I was nine and didn’t know anything, I can most certainly do it again now.” Underneath his confidence was the real fear that he would fail again. That he wouldn’t get back to Marie-Grace in time to save her. That he would relive the childhood trauma of losing the people he loves most in the world all over again. How could his life go on without her?   
“I’m coming,” said Logan.   
“No,” said the pirate. “You are not.”  
“Can I come?” asked Gwen.   
“No!” shouted Samantha, Logan and the pirate.   
“Logan?”  
“Gwen,” Logan said firmly. “Stay. Sit.” Gwen sat. “Stay. Good girl! Stay.” Gwen stayed behind.   
“How are you not sick, pirate?” asked Nellie. “You’ve had the most contact of any of us and you’re still---”  
“I’m immune,” he said simply.   
“What?!” shouted Samantha.   
“How?” asked Nellie.   
“None of your business,” he snapped. “All you need to know is that like Logan, it is impossible for me to get witchcraft disease.”   
The pirate knelt beside Marie-Grace. A slow tear leaked out. He didn’t want to leave her side. If he didn’t make it back and she. . . . and he wasn’t here. . . She needed him to take care of her. With Samantha, Nellie, and Gwen caring for 16 people yet also becoming sick themselves there was no one left to tend to Marie-Grace. But he could do the most good if he left. Who was he kidding? As long as there was breath left in him he would fight to save her. Even if it meant sailing across the sea and beyond to get the cure.   
A hand reached up to wipe his tear. “Go,” croaked Marie-Grace.   
He held her hand against his cheek. “Je ne veux pas te quitter.”  
She smiled softly. “But you must.”  
He nodded.   
“You’ll come back in time.” She said it with certainty, like she knew he would, with much more confidence than he felt. He would be back. He had to be. Her life depended on it.   
In 1853, it was yellow fever that raged in an epidemic in Marie-Grace’s little world. Did she really just come away from that unscathed only to die now of a magic disease? At least they had that in common. Both the pirate and Marie-Grace were traumatized by disease when they were both nine years old. Disease like a serpent had a way of slinking its way into their lives sucking it dry with its death and decay. The only difference was that this time, she was the victim. I bet my father didn’t see this coming when he sent me away, she thought as she clutched The Pirate’s hand like it were her only lifeline. His face was a blurry vision of anguish as more worry lines etched themselves across his features. “Across the sea and beyond, Ti-Marie, I will go and find the cure. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”  
Then she fell into an exhausted, feverish sleep as her pirate captain squeezed her hand one last time before setting off to do the impossible, find a cure for the dreaded PFV disease, yet again. But this time, the pirate knew where he was going and he was determined to not let it happen like last time. He would come back to his beloved in time to save her. Or would he? The biggest problem about the witchcraft disease is that you never know if it is better to wake as an evil witch and stay that way for eternity or if it’s better to never wake up at all.  
With a watery smile, the pirate kissed her hand and disappeared.   
******************************************************************  
Felicity slumped against a brick wall. She was curled up around her knees, her body hidden in the shadows of the dark alley. She had been like a hound dog on a scent, until the trail went cold. Meredith had led her on a merry chase through the streets of PFV, like a cat toying with her mousey prey. Every time she got close, the Keabl slipped away. Where could that girl be? What was she playing at here?   
Then she had it. The Playroom! Where the sickness was, where the magic was! She would want to be there to collect the magic, right? But Felicity, who hates to read, is too careless to pay attention and read carefully, and didn’t really read the Keabl book too closely, had forgotten one important detail. Meredith didn’t need to be anywhere near the playroom to collect the magic. She could do it at a distance. Then Felicity made perhaps the biggest error she had made all day. She ran home. Inside of the brick wall Felicity had been leaning against, Meredith laughed manically for getting Felicity to go home was her plan all along.   
******************************************************************  
The map was pinned to the table with red push pins marking their destination. “Um, pirate?” said Logan.   
The pirate swore. “What are you doing here?”  
“I’m stowing away!”  
He shook his head, realizing it was impossible to get rid of her.   
“Your map is a little out of date.”   
“No, this map is perfectly fine. My father gave me this map.”   
“Well, the earth isn’t flat.”  
“Well, according to this map it is! Besides, we’re sailing to the edge of the sea. There is only one place to get this cure, boys, and it’s----”  
“I don’t know how that’s possible because there can only be an edge to the sea if the earth is flat in this time period and it is most definitely not flat now, even though it used to be in PFV.”  
“Who said we are staying in this time period?”  
Logan gaped. “You cannot mean . . . .?”   
“Oh, but I do. We’re going to the Bermuda triangle, the end of all ends, back when the earth was flat.” He rolled up his map and tucked it under his arm.   
“WHAT?! But the Bermuda Triangle is just the ocean near Florida where ships disappear!”  
The pirate nodded. “Ships disappear alright, and I know where they go.”  
Logan jumped up and down alongside the pirate as he made his way above deck to bark orders at his crew. “Cool! I remember when. . . .” The pirate zoned out as Logan chatted on. He thought back to his first childhood memory, the last time he had felt safe. Back when happiness reigned and he was home, before his best friend turned traitor, before the witchcraft disease stole his parent, before the sorrows of life invaded taking his innocence with it.   
“Argh! You’ll walk the plank matey!” A young street rat declared pulling out a wooden sword to defend himself. The sun sank lower in the sky, symbolic of the ending of happy childhood days forever.   
“Never! Not as long as I have anything to do with it!” laughter and glee danced in eyes that would one day morph into dark world weary eyes of a pirate.   
“Alight my handsome pirate, it’s time for bed!” called a voice from inside a beautiful mansion.   
“But mom!”   
“You heard me captain, upstairs. Now. If you’re the captain,” she said flashing her son a proud smile, “Then who are you?”   
“The second mate ma’am, and proud to be it.” He gave a little bow and kissed her hand.   
Lost in memories of her past she giggled then resumed a stern face. “I’ll thank you second mate, to hurry home.”  
Sadness clouded over the young boy’s face. “Of course miss.” Turning to his captain he said, “I have lost today, but tomorrow you will meet defeat!”  
Giving his mate a friendly slap on the back the pretend captain only shook his head and replied, “We’ll see.”  
With a grin, the second mate was off. The captain’s mother put a comforting arm around him. “Can’t we take him in?” the boy pleaded.   
The woman shook her head sadly. “No, you’re father will have my head if we do.” Father was a merchant to the king. He liked to gather his wealth for his own family and not share even a penny with those in need.   
“But he isn’t even here----”  
“He’ll be home tomorrow. His ship comes in tonight.”  
“Really?!” squealed the little boy.   
“Yes, but you need to go to sleep now.”   
Yawning, the little boy marched upstairs, pausing on the landing to look at a map on the wall. “Someday, I’m going there.” He pointed way off to the edge. “To that island, where the world is flat, across the sea and beyond.”  
She kissed the top of his head. “No, my son. I pray you’ll never go there to that wretched place. Or ever take to the sea.”  
“But why not, mama?”  
“Because I want you to stay safe, right here with me.” She lifted him up onto his bed.   
“Tell me a story, the one about you and father.”  
“Not that one again! You’ve heard it so many times.”  
“Please?”   
“Oh, alright. A long time ago your father used to be king of the pirates and I was the princess of that faraway island called Bermuda until he kidnapped me and held me for ransom. . . . But he never counted on falling in love and I mostly certainly never thought of reforming him. . . .”  
“Pirate! Oh, pirate!”  
“Uh?” The captain shook his head to clear his thoughts.   
“Looks like a storm is brewing!” Logan stood at the bow like she was on the Titanic except she was pointing to the horizon where dark storm clouds were gathering. It seemed the eye of the storm was right where they needed to be. “Alight, boys! Batten the hatches! We’re sailing through.”  
“But captain!” came the shocked reaction from the crew.   
“Do as you’re told, lads! Marie-Grace needs us; if we sail around it we may be too late. The only option is to go through.”   
Logan gulped. “Not if we sink!”  
“Trust me,” said the pirate. “I’ve done this before. We’re not going to sink.”   
Sink they did.   
******************************************************************  
Felicity barged into the playroom with all of the grace and tact of a dying walrus playing the bagpipes. “Samantha! Samantha! I’m sorry for all the times I’ve cried wolf but there really is an emergency this time! I need help! Meredith is a Keabl and the letter from grandpa and the disease! Marie-Grace has this really bad disease called witchcraft and Meredith is using it to suck out all her magic and use it for----whoa, what happened in here?” What Felicity was referring to here was the green slim covering every inch of the room. She also could have seen Elizabeth hanging upside down from the ceiling fan babbling on about how she loves to eat acorns in the woods with her animal friends Barney and Samson, or Bitty F. yelling at the blender to “giddy up cowboy” or Molly pretending to be a zombie while her red table floated behind her, or Gwen now exhausted and feverish face down in a puddle of green grossness a purple boil the double the size of her face on her head.   
“Samantha?”  
“What do you want Felicity?” Samantha cried in exasperation. “Can’t you see I’m busy here?!” Samantha held Bitty Q. by one foot as the girl tried to skyrocket through the ceiling again. There was a Bitty shaped hole in the roof where a Bitty, either Fatterson or Quansa, had blasted through the first time.   
“Meredith is trying to take over the world! Using witch----”  
“That’s great, Felicity.” She turned her attention back to Bitty.   
“No, wait! This is important!”  
Nellie busted up into a hysterical laugh, a laugh that didn’t sound like Nellie’s but rather a crackling witch. Her face flushed green and she landed in a pile next to Gwen. “No!” wailed Samantha as she rushed to her best friend’s side. “Not Nellie!”   
Felicity felt a little woozy herself. She looked down at her pocket where she felt a pinching sensation. The scorpion had no regard for baggies and had latched onto Felicity’s hip. “Oh, no! I was supposed to---” She too toppled to the ground.   
“Well,” said Samantha. “At least she shut up.”   
******************************************************************  
“Left. Right. Left. Right. No, no, no! You fools! Step together! Like this! Geesh, building an evil army is a lot harder than it looks. Can none of you even march properly?”  
“Maw-ha-ha!” laughed Kelsey. The chilling sound of her evil laugh echoed through the valley as encouragement to their minions. “If you’re evil name is Martha then I’m going to be Kelly.”  
Martha rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, Kelly.”   
“Silly Martha, we need to destroy the playroom first before we take over the world or else they’ll just stop us. They must be annihilated first for us to be able to stamp out any flicker or resistance or hope our slaves might have.”  
“Urgh, why are sidekicks so annoying! Yes, dense little Kelly, we are in the process of destroying them right now! Patience, good things come to those who wait. No matter how hard they try now, they’ll never defeat us. This is the playroom we’re talking about here.” Martha said it as if she were repulsed even though it was the place she once called home.   
******************************************************************  
The mere thought of Marie-Grace dying by any means, never mind the fact it was the same disease his parents died from, ripped at the pirate’s soul. He fought that storm as if he were fighting death itself and victory meant saving Marie-Grace’s life. The rain poured onto the lurching ship. She weathered the storm well, but it was not enough to bring them through. Wood splintered as the ocean roared angry swells around the pirate ship. As the ship went under, the people on board were tossed into the pounding surf. Sinking to the bottom of the sea, the pirate thought only of Marie-Grace and how he failed her. His eyes closed and suddenly he was a child again.   
The sound of a slap, skin on skin, an ugly smack. “I thought you loved me!”  
“And I do,” said an angry male voice.   
A child woke. “Papa? Is papa home from sea?” He crept out of bed and rather than fling himself into his father’s arms like he usually did, something held the boy back and cautioned him not to take another step. He hid in the hallway, straining to hear the rest of the whispered argument.   
“Then why are you doing this? To us? To me? Do you really love that life more than our family?”  
“It’s not like that----”  
“You promised me; you swore you’d never go back to----”  
“You listen to me! I have to; I’ve got no other choice. In order to pay off our debts---”  
“Then why this fancy house? I told you we could live---”  
“Well, excuse me my pride won’t let my family go to the poor house!”  
“Your pride? What about mine? In you? How could I ever be proud of a scoundrel who----”  
“I’m just going to do it for now to get us out of this rough spot. The boy never need know!”  
“Oh, really? He’s already got an uncommon interest in pirates as it is. I never want to see him end up like you!”  
“And he won’t. I can promise you that.”  
“I’m done with your promises. They are worth nothing. A beard? Really? You just had to grow the beard back too?!”   
“Hey, it’s not red yet.” She glared at him. “Too soon?”   
“Shave it.”   
“But---”  
“Shave it. If you want me to stay here with you then you shave that beard and never let me see another one. And it better not have even one spec of red on it!”   
He sighed. “As you wish. Now, can I tell you about my voyage or not?”   
It was her turn to sigh. “Yes. I want to hear all about it. Who is that new man you brought back?”  
“Oh, him?” said the man dismissively. “He’s just a the new swabbie. I found him deserted on Blackbeard’s island. See, hon? The best in the business have beards! Anyway, he’s no one of importance, just a new guy not worth my time. Says his name is Keabl.”   
What the pirate didn’t realize as he unconsciously sank beneath the waves was that he had navigated them right into where they needed to be. The Bermuda Triangle beckoned the wrecked ship forward pulling her with all the speed and force of a hurricane. A bright golden light appeared over the water as the sea swirled in a circular whirlpool. Around and around went the broken ship, the frightened crew, the anguished captain and the happy go lucky Logan, swirling as if they were in a giant toilet. Soon the ocean swallowed them all up, and they disappeared without a trace. There was blue sky and sunshine as the sun seeped out through the clouds and the storm cleared away. There was a massive bubble and a loud pop, as if the ocean burped.   
******************************************************************  
“Breaking news!” announced the breaking news guy. In PFV, your T.V. did not need to be on to get updates from this dude. Anything interesting or critically important happening, something usually pertaining to the playroom, was announced magically in every home and building to every person in the world. Annoying, but it was used sparingly. It was most often about the playroom people because they were always so involved in crazy PFV happenings. “Breaking news! There is an outbreak of the dreaded witchcraft disease. My sources say it started at 742 play road, thank you again whackos. Millions in America are ill and on the verge of death or eternity as witches. If you had your vaccine this year then you will be fine, very sick yes, but in the end you most likely will not die or be a witch. However, if you did not have your vaccine then you have the misfortune of succumbing to those lovely fates. There is no cure other than the vaccination.”  
“Nellie!” Samantha coughed into a bucket. Samantha was giving up nursing her sisters as she herself fell to the illness.   
Fortunately, Nellie wasn’t quite at the forgetful stage yet and had one moment of lucidity left. “Yes?”  
“Were we vaccinated?”  
“Did we ever get our physicals this year?”  
“Um. . . .no? I’m trying to remember!” Samantha frowned, desperately wishing she had been more on top of things. “Meredith and Kelsey did because they were new but----”  
“Did you make the appointments?”  
“I thought you were going to!”  
“Well, I never did! I thought you were!” said Nellie accusingly.   
Samantha pounded her head against her bucket. Her dragon magic was flaring up and she was worried about accidently setting the house on fire. By now, some of the girls were almost full witches with warts, green faces, and pointy hats.   
Suddenly, there was a clatter on the roof. “Who goes there?” demanded Felicity with a china teacup in hand. She was in the middle of sipping tea and eating crumpets. The crazy things everyone else was doing was her usual normal self so her magic affected her in the opposite way, by making her a polite lady. It was a sight under other circumstances Samantha would have enjoyed immensely, yet now it made her heart grieve.   
“It is I, Martha Keabl, here to enslave you as my personal magic source for all eternity!”  
Samantha frowned for she did not know anyone by that name. “Well, if you’re going to enslave us can I at least ask a question?”  
This was not the terrified response Martha was hoping for. “Fine. What is it?”  
“What are you going to do with all that magic?”  
“What?” said Martha taken aback.   
Nellie nodded in agreement. “Once you take over the world, then what you going to do?”  
“I don’t understand.”  
“What they mean,” added Felicity, “is once you have all the magic in the world at your disposal, once you control all the people, then what? You’ll still be lonely. You’ll have even less friends because everyone will hate you. The magic will never satisfy you. You’ll still be   
Martha growled. “Well, I never thought---”  
“That’s the point we’re trying to make!” said Felicity. “You didn’t think! If you’re going to take over the world then you must think! You must have a better plan! What, is the playroom the only target you have? How are you going to take out the rest of the world? Put us on a map, we’re very small! Once we’re gone, you’ll still have to deal with the governments, and believe me they are a headache waiting to happen! We cannot be your magic source forever. Once we’re dead or witches it’s over for you because our magic is gone. But we’re all half from the real world, the real world where magic does not exist. We’ve all lived the first half of our lives without magic, I think we can again! We’re fighting with love! How do you think I save the world from villains like you every day? With love! How is the pirate going to make it back to Marie-Grace in time to save her? Love! You’re a rookie. I’ve faced worse villains than you many times, trust me, you’re still a toddler when it comes to this being evil thing! But love and light magic will always defeat evil and dark magic every time. I don’t know exactly how yet Martha, but we’ll defeat you despite this nastiness you’ve thrust upon us. Face it Martha, or I should say Meredith, you’ve lost! Give up! Not even death by witchcraft can stop us!”   
A surge of hope sprung up in Samantha. She didn’t understand what was happening, but Felicity did and that was good enough for her. Felicity may not always get it right, yet when she did she was a force to be reckoned with.   
“I don’t have to answer to you!” sneered Martha. “I’ll take over the world in a better way! I don’t need you or your magic. But I’ll be back. Yes, I’ll run off and hide biding my time until I can defeat you all! Love? Who needs your cheap family? I’m better off going my own way.” With that, Martha jumped off the roof and disappeared in a puff of smoke. She won’t be bothering our playroom friends for a while. Wounded inside, Martha will not so flippantly underestimate them again. When she does finally try again, brace yourself, dear reader, brace yourself.   
Felicity should have been triumphant that she was able to reason with the psychopath, but her face went completely green as she advanced to the next stage. The Martha problem may have been solved for now, yet there was still the little problem of the witchcraft disease.   
“In other news,” continued the breaking news guy, “The hottest new celebrity thanks to Quansa’s new musical, the captain of the French Pirate is no longer with us. His ship was sighted off the coast of Florida, near the Bermuda Triangle. Crazy fans and Coast Guard patrols are looking for any sign of the pirate ship yet nothing has been found so far.”   
“Nellie?” Nellie didn’t answer. She had gone off the deep end and wasn’t coming back. “All hope is lost,” Samantha muttered. “We’re doomed.”   
Marie-Grace had not gone insane yet. She still lay in her bed, sick, miserable, and green but not anywhere near becoming a witch. Marie-Grace was thankful that she would die instead of be a nasty witch forever. She heard the breaking news guy and her heart shattered. “I thought, I knew, I was so sure he would come back.” Tears welled in her eyes. She had been holding on for him, but now she had nothing left to live for.   
******************************************************************  
The pirate slowly opened his eyes as he felt the bump on his head. He was laying on a tropical beach under a shady palm tree. Logan lounged beside him in a resort chair wearing a bikini, a giant floppy sun hat, and overly huge sun glasses sipping juice from a coconut with a bendy straw. “Logan!” the pirate scolded. “This is not your vacation! We’re on a quest to-----”  
“She’s alright,” said an authoritative voice behind him. “Let her be.”  
The pirate swung his head around to craned his neck up to look at a very big man. He looked Jamaican. He wore royal purple robes and a crown of seaweed embedded with jewels. He was holding a bottle, a bottle of liquid the pirate wanted very much. “Who are you?”   
“I am the pirate king!”  
“Uh-huh, okay, and I’m the great Poseidon!”  
“You dare mock your king?” The king had two swords in his hands and both were aimed at the pirate’s heart.   
“No,” said the pirate in a very small voice. Normally he wouldn’t have backed down, but he really needed that bottle!   
“Good,” the pirate king smiled. “Now onto business. Why are you here?”  
“May I ask where is here?”   
“Didn’t you sail here?”  
“Yes, but---”  
“So you tell me! Where do you think you’ve landed?”  
The pirate looked around, a little unsure. But then he recognized a marking in a tree, a mark the had put there the last time he had visited this island. “Across the sea and beyond the new world. An ageless time when the earth is flat. The edge of all edges, the edge of the sea. We’re here, on the Bermuda Triangle. A beautiful tropical island literally shaped like a triangle. The place where all men who have been lost at sea find refuge.”  
The king smiled approvingly. “Good answer. Why have you come?”  
The pirate gulped for this was not something he wanted to admit this out loud to anyone ever especially not in front of Logan. But he knew he must. If he wanted that bottle, and he did, he would play this man’s games. For Marie-Grace, reminded himself, do it for her. “I have come to uncover what I have lost, the bottle that holds the cure to the dreaded witchcraft disease. I made a terrible mistake by throwing it away. I was so filled with bitterness, hate, and sorrow that I didn’t use what I had been given for good. I tried hard to destroy it like my life had been destroyed. But never again. Marie-Grace needs me to give her that cure you hold in your hands. Not just her, everyone in the playroom needs it. I may be nothing except a horrible pirate who does more harm than good but that family is a bright beckon of light and the world would be a much darker place without them in it. I was that sailor man lost at sea. I thought that cure was supposed to be for my parents but now I realize it is for someone else I love very much. I am here because I am not going to make the same mistake again. I will make it back in time to save my beloved and if I don’t then no matter how much pain I’m in from losing her, I will share that cure with the rest of the world so no one else can suffer the same wretched fate that all the people that I love most have. Monsieur, I must insist that you give me that bottle! I will fight you for it and I will win because, because, because, I love Marie-Grace Gardner and I will give her that bottle even if I have to die in the process!”  
“Okay.” The Jamaican tossed it to him. “Here you go.”  
“Seriously?! You’re just going to give it to me?”  
The pirate king shrugged. “Why not? You passed my test and I don’t want to fight you because I’m rather out of shape these days and losing to you would be embarrassing. Now, go! Rush home to your lady love and save her life!”  
“Um, how do I get there?”  
“Isn’t that your ship?” The king pointed out to a ship in the harbor.   
“It is! But how? The last time I was here----”  
“Well, things have changed a bit since then. Don’t question it! Just go! The portal is clogged, we had a little mishap with the seaweed king, so you’ll have to take the long way. Good luck!” The Jamaican pirate king disappeared into thin air.  
“Come on, Logan!” The pirate called as he half ran half swam out to his ship. “I’m leaving without you!”   
Logan stood up, stretched and ripped out her earbuds. “Took you long enough! I’m so glad I came! This is so much better in wallowing in despair with everyone at home.” She boarded a dingy with the rest of the crew and they rowed quickly past the water logged captain.   
“Hurry up, pirate!” Logan called down from the ship. “Marie-Grace needs you!”  
******************************************************************   
The wind howled over the dark raging sea, a mournfully low echo of the turmoil raging in the pirate’s heart. They weren’t home yet and he willed the wind to push the sails faster. Play Road may not have been his home, per say, and yet Marie-Grace was there. Wherever she was, that’s where his heart cried home. A clear silver moon shone above and stars glistened overheard like millions of silver coins gleaming in a buried treasure chest. Normally on a night like this the pirate would scour the sea for fat wealthy merchant ships or enemy pirate ships to plunder.   
Yet on this night, the pirate cared not about the adventurous lure of treasure hunting for all the money in the world could not buy him what mattered most to him in that moment, Marie-Grace’s life. What was the point of accumulating mass riches if all the wealth in the world was not enough to save her? Faster, faster, his heart cried in anguish fearing he would be too late. And he was.   
******************************************************************  
It was a very sad and sorry sight Logan, the pirate, and his crew came home to that day. Play Road was littered with debris and magic floated everywhere, the particles toxic to inhale. When they reach 742, the door was locked. “That’s odd,” muttered Logan. “We never lock it.”   
The pirate pounded on the door but it was much too quiet, much too still for anyone in their party to feel at ease. The pirate was this close to smashing through the door when Logan found a spare key in the hedge and fumbled with the doorknob. Slowly, cautiously, they went inside. Logan gasped to see Gwen’s body rumpled like a rag doll. She wasn’t breathing. Neither was anyone else for that matter. It was the silence that hurt them most. The playroom was always a loud, hustling, bustling place. Now it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. It wasn’t right. The playroom equals joy but tonight there was nothing joyous, no laughter to be found in the crumpled, lifeless forms laying so unnaturally still.   
With trembling, heartbreaking steps the pirate strode to Marie-Grace. He lifted her head and felt for a pulse. Finding none, he cried her name and held her in his arms as he rocked back and forth. This was the only time in his life that he was not ashamed to be seen sobbing. Marie-Grace was worth it, every tear.   
Solemnly, the rest of the crew entered. They took off their caps and bowed their heads. Finally, and it nearly killed them to do this for they had grown quite fond of the quirky little family too, they went to the graveyard and started digging.   
Logan and the pirate gently and carefully lifted each girl. They carried her to the cemetery, laid her in a hole, cried over her as they remembered. Then they walked deliberately back to 742 Play Road to pick up another girl and start all over again. The captain of the French pirates and Logan had never really gotten along or liked each other all that well until that dark and dreadful day they spent in the cemetery together. Now they were bonded for life in their grief.   
Gwen and Marie-Grace were last. It was unbearable but somehow they did it. The pirate kissed her once last time, somehow hoping true love’s kiss would work for that was the most powerful magic there is, but her icy lips remained unmoved. Not even true love’s kiss could bring Marie-Grace back to him and this grieved his heart most of all. “Je suis désolé. I failed you. And I never even got to tell you. . .’’ The pirate could not go on. He knelt by her grave and cried his heart out for the beautiful life before him cut short because he had failed her. He couldn’t save his parents, and he couldn’t save Marie-Grace. He was helpless   
Before they started throwing dirt over the girls, Logan did something even more shocking. She hugged the pirate and sobbed. He held onto her close and let the tears flow. They both came apart at the seams when they thought of the bottle in the pirate’s hands and how they were too late.   
Just as he was about to pour its contents out on the ground behind him, a rainbow colored comet whirled past in the sky above. There was a trembling in the earth, not quite an earthquake but almost. There was a maniacal crackle of laughter coming from the far side of the cemetery where Cecile lay. Suddenly she shot upwards into the sky, her skin completely green, her face covered in warts, her body robed in black, and outfit complete with a black pointy hat. She sat astride a broomstick and flew circles around the gravestones. Next it was Molly, Elizabeth, Bitty Q., Bitty F., Big D., Parker, Emily, Felicity, Gwen and Samantha and Nellie.   
“Grab them!” The pirate shouted.  
“You want me to do what?!” exclaimed Logan.  
He held up the bottle with the cure and Logan needed no further explanation. The first playroom gal they managed to wrestle to the ground was Bitty Quansa. They force fed her one drop of the cure and any trace of green or witchyness on her disappeared completely. “Hey, what’s the big idea!” Bitty Q. shook her fist at them. “And why am I in a cemetery?”  
The Logan and pirate team didn’t answer, instead reaching for the next victim. Slowly but surely they lassoed each person and gave them a generous dose of the cure.   
Samantha slapped a hand on the pirate’s back. “Well, pirate,” she said. “You did it. I really didn’t think you could or would and I’m sorry for doubting you. You really proved yourself worth today of Marie-Grace’s hand. Thank you. I can never repay you for what you did for us today. You saved all of us. And. . . . I give you my blessing to be with Marie-Grace. It turns out you’re not a such a bad pirate after all.”  
All except one that is, for Marie-Grace hadn’t risen with the rest of her family. The pirate didn’t see her in the chaos of everyone else and he ran to where he had placed her when he had thought all hope was lost. Hope wasn’t lost, it was just hidden from view for a while. The pirate’s heart surged with longing and he was filled with crushing disappointment when he saw her still laying pale faced. The image of his mother came back to haunt him, and now there was a new haunting picture of perfect misery and sorrow that would be pierced into his brain for all time.   
And yet. . . .   
He uncorked the bottle and poured the last of it into her mouth. He covered his eyes with his hands and sobbed, gut wrenching sobs, once more. He didn’t see her eyelids flutter open, didn’t hear her gasp for breath he was so far gone into the depths of despair. “Pirate?” she said softly.   
He stopped, absolutely frozen.   
“Why are you crying?”  
He laughed, joy rising in his heart. He picked her up and spun her around.   
She smiled. Oh, that beautiful, glorious, smile of hers. “I told you so.”  
He set her down and held her face between his palms. “Yes, yes you did.” They stood gazing deep into the other’s eyes for a long, long time. Until he said, “Ti-Marie?”  
“Hmmm?”  
“Je’ t’aime. I love you.”  
For an answer, she kissed him.


End file.
